he cold air whips past you, as you wrap your cloak tighter around your neck, the pale moonlight glistening off the sea. As you look around, you wish you had time to admire the beauty of the scene…but you don’t! The smell of fish reminds you that you stand in front of the Dunham Fishery warehouse on the North docks, fast approaching midnight. It will be soon now or at least that’s what the message said. Your eyes scan your surroundings, especially the three other strangers not further than 30 feet from you, all waiting for the same thing you imagine. Your hand does not stray from the grip of your weapon or spell, watching out for the agents of Mitra or evidence of a set-up, though the docks are abandoned at this time of night, except for you and the three strangers. Perfect meeting place then for what you need...more like, desperately need! The law is after you and closing in quick. By the gods, how did your crime go so wrong? You were supposed to be miles away by the time they discovered your crime. How did you miscalculate so badly? It doesn’t matter now. The roads out of the city are cut off, the Knights of Alerion dispatching patrols desperately looking for you, not to mention the numerous bounty hunters looking to make some coin off your capture. Your residence has been ransacked and your so called friends/acquaintances have forsaken you, seeking to save their neck at your expense. This is really your last resort, being smuggled out of the city by ship by the Night Masks, the only underground thieves’ guild in Talingarde. But as you palm your coin purse, you can tell it’s quite light. How will you ever negotiate passage with such few coins for what must be a costly trip? It does not matter, you managed to arrange a meeting and you can only hope for the best. Screw Mitra! You are a survivor and you will find a way! A cornered animal is at its most dangerous. Asmodeus will see you through! And for this reason, you still do not take your eyes off the strangers near you….
checking in again..... lets see if it takes this time.
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Mysty arrives at the warehouse and carefully looks around, while also concealing her self. One good thing about those Mitran scum is that they don't sneak worth a damn and didn't seem that observant. She looks over three others, who also seem to be stalking around, Though not as good as me. No knights.
Mysty stood 2'11", which made her an average height for her people. She had black hair and a pale complexion, a legacy of many late nights. He face was composed, but her eyes betrayed anger.
A burning angry flowed through Mysty, as she thought over the nights events. Damn the Mitrans, and damn Mitra
Mysty worshiped Asmodeus is his guise as a trickster. She originally joined her small cult simply as defiance of her expected role. The patronizing views of Talingarde towards her species was annoying, and her parents acceptance of that was contemptible. She had run away at the young age of 20, quickly falling into the world of crime.
Luckily she was not caught when the knights and inquisitors of Mitra descended on the small cult. She at that point began to worship Asmodeus more carefully, but also more fervently. Something saved her, and she wasn't one to miss a bet. She later heard that the cult members had all burned at the stake.
She was saddened at hearing that, but concluded that they, and her, were better off. After all they could have implicated her, and now they couldn't. But her anger and dislike of the church grew. She never missed an opportunity to blacken them, which is probably why she jumped at the chance of robbing the cathedral. On reflection that was an error.
Now she was here on the run, with strangers. Someone was going to pay for this. But to cases.
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Perception:
Disguise:
Stealth:
Amanda approaches the warehouse with caution, every ready for some kind of ambush. While the Night Masks were the best chance to escape her pursuers, they could very well stab her in the back and turn her over to the Mitrans for a reward far beyond what she can offer them.
Indeed, the Mitrans worked quickly when they learned Amanda was a traitor. Fortunately Amanda was away from the Cathedral at the time and when she was approached by the church enforcers demanding she return with them to answer the charges of Heresy, she knew someone had sold her out. Who could of known? She was indeed a perfect operative in the church, successfully blending in and performing her duties as ordered by the church while gathering valuable intelligence. No, it was not a mistake on her part. Someone had revealed her involvement with Asmodeus.
Suffice to say Amanda ran for it with the Mitrans hot on her heels. But her training in stealth and subterfuge paid off and she was able to lose her pursuers. Using her skills in disguise quickly changed clothes now wearing a peasants garb covering over her chain shirt underneath. She has also dirtied up her face to better blend in with the rabble of the common folk, moving cautiously knowing she was a wanted woman. She made sure to cloak her aura in that of a righteous woman using the gifts Asmodeus had granted her to better hide from the Paladins who could see into the heart of evil.
For now getting her vengeance on the Mitrans would have to wait. It would be a foolhardy gesture to stand and fight such opposition. For now it is survival that is paramount. She would have to get out of the city and find any allies she can. Only then can she prepare to strike back at the fools of Mitra.
A man in weather worn traveling garments common in the city walks to the front of the Dunham Fishery. He moves with confidence, as though he is accustomed to travel in this area of the city. A scimitar and dagger in leather sheathes hang on his belt along with two large pouches.His steps are quiet, but no more so than a man walking at a calm pace. He waits at the place he was told to go to meet with the Night Masks. He thinks, These clothes are poor. Too bad the fellow that owned them didn't have a bit more coin. I would have liked enough to purchase better attire as well as pay for passage out of this realm of self-righteous bastards. You offer a man a way to pay his debt by besting me in a duel and this is the punishment. I shall be less generous in the future...I hope I don't have to wait too long. I'd rather avoid any confrontations with the locals.
If he can see anyone else, he will pay them a polite glance and a nod of the head.
Razul stopped short upon seeing the strangers at the warehouse. He could tell by their expectant airs that they were not the ones who arranged the meeting.
Ah, a group discount. So that is why my lack of significant funds was not a problem.
He cautiously approached, not taking his hand from the hilt of his sword. There was no telling what trickery could happen.
He moved with a fluid grace and economy of motion that spoke of many hours of swordplay. Razul was young, but had a cruel twist to his face. His ice blue eyes projected no warmth, mercy was definitely not one of his qualities.
Damien keeps Razul in sight. He rests a hand on his belt near his scimitar, a natural reaction to an armed stranger.
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Mysty watches all the strangers from her place of concealment. Not Mitrans. Perhaps others in a similar predicament? Two of them are armed, so revealing herself suddenly might be, unfortunate. Best to announce oneself. Mysty moves so she is not next to any of the others and then speaks
Cool evening isn't it?
Damien's hand grabs his scimitar hilt. When he sees the child-like woman, his hand relaxes. "A bit past your bed time isn't it?" he studies her, "Hmmm. A Halfling? Is that the name of your kind? I don't see many of your kind about the docks."
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Well you big folk rarely see us anyway. And of course we aren't heavy lifters. But I would also say you don't see many swordsmen here either.
Mysty shrugs.
unusual for any to be here this time of night. Curious it is. You three all have that "get out of town" look. Sort of want that myself
Mysty looks at the distant glow of the burning cathedral one the skyline. Looks like the seminary college and the school of theologians had also caught alight. She smiled at the far off sight.
yep I want to leave. For one reason and another. I wonder why it caught on fire. A little inconvenient for me, but it is a fine sight. What do you think?
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Amanda Malburne has the look of a peddler woman under her disguise. While she keeps a knife tucked away under her robes and a Sickle hanging off her belt the rest of her gear is cleverly stuffed away in her backpack and her shield is wrapped in cloth and disguised to look like a some kind of cooking plate and is also on her back. She likewise has made sure to smear some charcoal and dirt on her robes to keep up appearances.
She tries to get a sense of the ruffians and their intentions against her:
Sense Motive:
Unfortunately having only just met these people she can't figure out their base motives so decides to keep her cover for now. When addressed she speaks she disguises her voice to sound like a peasant and says to the halfling.
"It is a bit nippy out young lass I suppose but that is not very much a worry. Foul things are afoot with that fire raging off in the distance there. So the Cathedral burns tonight does it? Cat handed fools should be careful about dropping an oil lamp on a carpet. Oh well I am sure they will put out the fire eventually and knowing the church they'll be pinching donations from da common folks to build a whole new place."
Amanda decides to keep her comments vague. She was perfectly sure that the fire was an act of Arson but to keep her cover it would be best to feign ignorance like the peasant she is pretending to be.
Bluff:
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Well the poor are poor for a reason. They let themselves think that giving the church gold and silver means reward after they die. More fool them. I like my rewards now. Still I don't rob the poor much. Hardly worth it. I pinch off the mitrans. They tithe the poor and put it in easy to find places Saves me the leg work.
Mysty giggles. better in my pocket then some cardinals.
Damien studies the peddler woman. Why is this peasant here at this hour. Perhaps the fish would enjoy a meal.
"What have you seen to make you think foul things are afoot, peasant?" Damien eyes narrow with suspicion. "Peasants wandering on nights that churches are burning make me uncomfortable. What do you know of the matter?"
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Amanda says to Mysty keeping her peasant persona, "Ah so you be a little burgler are you? Well it would be a waste to try and rob a poor woman like meself. I don't have even two coppers to rub together. I donna have a place to live after me hovel collapsed. Been livin in the street for quite a while. Them Mitrans don't know anything about being poor livin in those pretty temples."
As for Damien's question she shrugs and says keeping with the deception she says, "Well it be a poor omen when a church of Mitra burns. Shows something has gone wrong with them Mitrans. Not that Mitra has ever done anything for me. He doesn't get me coin, food or a place to live in this city. As for me be out on this night, I am hardly going to be restin in the streets in the middle of a fire causin a panic. The watch does not look to kindly on catching vagrants like meself sleepin in the streets."
Bluff:
"I don't like vagrants in the street either, especially those that strike up conversations with strangers for no real reason. Do I like the kindest of men to you? Why did you approach? And you aren't even begging? I find that disturbing. What do you think, small one? Do you like strangers initiating conversation on a night that churches burn?"
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Amanda Malburne tries to size up Damien to get an idea of his personality and motivations from her brief conversation with him.
Sense Motive:
She gets the idea that indeed this is probably someone who is a cold blooded killer. The type that would just stab a random Vagrant for just the fun of it. But at the same time this also validates that he's also here on for the same reason she is to meet with the Night Masks. His unusual appearance also caught her eye as it hints of an infernal heritage. Perhaps her deception was over-extended in this case and she should drop the act lest she get herself killed.
A more cultured and serious voice comes from under the robes very different from the uneducated peasant you heard before, "I do not beg, Deviled One. For the cause of ambition I take what is rightfully mine when it is there to be claimed. I do applaud your caution in this case though. Such paranoia will serve you well in the days to come. The eyes and ears of Mitra are everywhere and thus such a deception was a required evil to better gadge who I was dealing with."
The right side of Damien's mouth curls ever so slightly into a wicked grin, "That is more comforting speech. A wandering vagrant need not be allowed to walk away with knowledge best kept by the dead. But a fellow sinner ill at ease amongst Mitra's dogs is company I welcome."
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Amanda gives a smile at the comment and replies in infernal to him, "Condemned we all are in the eyes of Mitra but in the fires of hell we walk the path of the Lord of Darkness. We shall escape those that seek our demise and with the First of the Fallen at our backs we shall one day show these fools the full wrath of Hell.
She then switches back to common and says, "However, do not offer trust blindly Deviled one. Be wary of deception for it is tool our benefactors are known to use. This meeting could be a trap for the unwary."
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She smirks at Misty's comment and says, "The Mitrans can be subtle when it serves their purposes but this is not what I am referencing. I mean the Night Masks themselves are who we need to be careful of. A criminal element such as them are willing to play both sides if it means getting the greatest profit. Have you heard the saying 'There is no honor among thieves'?"
Razul watches the byplay with a noncommittal expression.
Well, it appears that I don't have to worry about the Law here. I wonder when our benefactor will make an appearance.
He relaxes slightly and leans against the wall looking around for any sign of the mysterious note sender.
A tall hooded man approaches the "party", as he draws near he raises his hands leaving his spear strapped to his back(Assuming you all put hands on your weapons), "Looks like I'm a little late to the party, we're all here for the same reason I take it?" he says. "Hopefully the size of this group will make up for my lack of coin." Inspecting the group,
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No honor amangst thieves. You obviously no nothing of how we...er, they operate With a sudden acrobatic movement mysty leaps on a crate. in a world like that of the thieves, your word is important, more precious than gold. There is the night code. Silence, fidelity and survival. What people like you don't understand is that it doesn't apply to you. If the night masks agree to get us out, they will. But if they don't then they will take us out here and now. They follow law, you see.
Damien sneers, "Thieves respect strength and coin. Words mean nothing to thieves unless you have the strength or coin to make them matter. If you think otherwise, then you will be the fool that ends with a dagger in the back wondering why the man holding the hilt didn't keep his word."
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"It remains to be seen if the Night Masks will deliver on their promise. They may keep their word or may not. In the end all I am advocating is staying on guard. For now, they seem like the best way to escape this city. But we should consider a backup plan in case things get out of hand. Perhaps the sewers might be an alternate route of escape. The Mitrans are not the type to dredge around in the muck. Not to say there won't be any dangers with that path however."
You two seem a little heated, odd on such a cold night. At any rate, we should probably learn to get along. We may need each other to escape this city alive.
I am Atisael. You could call me a man of faith, but not of the "correct" faith according to our glorious leaders. Atisael spits on the ground. Mitra, bah! he grumbles. Looking to Damien, And you are?
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"I am Amanda. One could call me a spy for the true faith. My task was keeping a watchful eye on Mitran activities from within their walls. Until some fool revealed the viper in their midst. Now my "Heresy" has condemned me to die, likey by the purging flame as the Mitrans call it. Suffice to say it is a fate I would rather avoid and by the Dark Lord's will I shall do so."
Damien grins at Mysty, "An ancestor of mine spent a bit too much time near the fire."
As you are conversing, suddenly, a crossbow bolt hits the crate that Mysty is standing on! Before you can reach for weapons or spells, you hear laughter and a voice from the roof of the fishery. As you look up, you see a human figure shrouded in shadow, that clearly wasn't there before, although Damien and Atisael see him clearly in black and white vision, a light crossbow in his right hand. A male voice speaks, "Isn't that nice that you're getting to know each other..Amanda and Mysty and Atisael...and Damien and Razul." The human male purposefully tilts his head to the two who have not mentioned their names. "No need to be secretive here, you're all in the deep end of the outhouse sh*t hole, from what I hear." The male chuckles at his own remark. "Oh, where are my manners? I am Gustav, emissary of the Night Masks, so please put those silly weapons away." The figure does a mock bow and leaves the shadows coming near the edge of the rooftop, coming into the moonlight, staying on the roof, however. The man appears in his mid-20's with an angular face, black hair and eyes, and a tattoo under his right eye. Pic of Gustav
"Now, I've been told you need to get out of town...like yesterday, right? Well, there's a price for smuggling such a prolific lot of you out from under Mitran eyes." Gustav glances over to the Church on fire in the distance. "The fee is 2500 royals (i.e. gold coins) per head." He pauses for effect, as he interprets your silence. "Ah, right, I was informed, the coinage may be an issue for you. Well, the Masks don't work for free. So then a favor for a favor. Attached to my bolt is a scroll with a person's name, an enemy of the Masks' interests, shall we say. We need him dead and then we will smuggle you out of Matharyn free of charge. A ship will be waiting for you tomorrow night at midnight at Pier 2 to take you away from here. Fail and we leave you to your own devices. You have 24 hours to comply. Any questions?"
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Amanda knows this man's angle. She was perfectly sure that no one except the wealthy could afford such a fee and that this was more of an act extortion than an actually legitimate exchange of money for services. She says to him, "The fee seems to be far beyond most normal folk could ever hope to afford. The average skilled laborer alone earns on average one royal in a day of work before expenses and you want us to pay you 2500 royals to be smuggled aboard a boat?"
She grimaces for a moment showing a tinge of displeasure before she continues saying, "I have the feeling that this was your intention all along for us to do this task. We shall take your scroll and assess what target you wish eliminated. If it can be done within 24 hours I expect your end of the bargain to be upheld."
She takes the scroll case and looks it over for any potential trapping mechanisms. She has seen trapped scrolls before.
Seeing no traps she opens the case, carefully removes the paper and unrolls the paper reading over the document.
Wonderful, one more day in this pit. Anyone want to do the honors? Atisael says, motioning towards the bolt.
Amanda knows this man's angle. She was perfectly sure that no one except the wealthy could afford such a fee and that this was more of an act extortion than an actually legitimate exchange of money for services. She says to him, "The fee seems to be far beyond most normal folk could ever hope to afford. The average skilled laborer alone earns on average one royal in a day of work before expenses and you want us to pay you 2500 royals to be smuggled aboard a boat?"
Gustav snickers, "Yes, but you and your lot are more than just "normal folk" as you say. Especially, if the rumors are true about what you are all accused of doing. But, I will admit there is some truth in what you say. You five are...what is the phrase?...not afraid to get your hands dirty, if you get my meaning." Gustav smiles at Amanda.
The name on the paper reads "Danilo Hammels".
"A single life worth 2,500 royals for each of us. I prefer to pay in blood as royals are valuable. Blood is cheap."
I can't say I have either. Does it say anything about where we can find him? Atisael asks, directing his question to both Gustav and whoever is reading the note(which very well might be me.)
Amanda Malburne shakes her head and says, "I also have not heard of this man."
She looks to Gustav and says, "If we are to do this task, we will need further information on him. His position in the city and his place of residence would be prudent to have."
Gustav smiles, showing off his pearly white teeth in the moonlight. "He's prominent and his residence in the High District is guarded like a fortress. There have been threats on his life or so the rumors say. If I was a betting man, which I am, I would venture and say the Opera House tonight might be a good place to find him. Anything else?"
Gustav chuckles at the "tragedy" comment. "In his home, I know the Council is picking up the expenses for his safety, so there are 10-15 guards. On the move in town, I would suspect less. Perhaps, some surveillance on your part would be wise. You look like you may blend in, little one."
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Amanda says, "A prominent individual you say. Getting him while he is away from his estate would be the most opportune time to perform this assassination. Attacking him while he is at transition would be the most prudent. If we attack him at home we will have to deal with his security. If we attack him at the Opera House, it will be far too public. But if we can get him while traveling between his home and the Opera House we could get him while he is most vulnerable."
An excellent plan, but one question remains. Where does this Danilo live? At any rate, our young halfling friend is seemingly perfect for a clean assassination.
Gustav smiles at the halfling. "Ah, my precocious Mysty. Here is where you have the advantage. Everyone in the city assumes you are on the run, holed up somewhere, and trying to flee the city. Only natural of course. The last place they would look for you would be in the center of the city, unless you brought attention to yourself, of course."